The Chronicles: Icarus
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: "Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go." - Herman Hesse. Jack/OC pairing - - Dark themes eventually - - Originally titled The Damned Don't Cry
1. Chapter 1

_**10:22 - 2/11/14**_

_So I thought of thia out of the blue and even reenacted one part to get it right._

_If I have enough feedback I will continue, if not then it will be a three chapter fic._

**_Warning (s):_**_ This chapter is rated M for mentions of non-consensual sex. This is a very dark beginning but I have been told I can capture a readers attention from the first chapter and I am trying to keep that up. I am not bragging, I am just stating a fact if you will. I have been in a few of the situations I will visit in this story and they are not fun or interesting. They are terrifying and sickening but it's how I write. If you do not like it do not read, but I do ask that you read this chapter all the way through before making your final decision._

* * *

**_'Cause your eyes told a tale_**

**_Of an act of betrayal_**

**_I knew that somebody did_**

Tenley-Baptiste was _not _supposed to die that night.

She had a ballet recital to be a part of. She was dressed in the appropriate attire, not wanting to waste all of that time with getting dressed and all that noise. She just needed a touch up with makeup and she was ready for the stage. She loved to dance.

She was walking to the theater, seeing it just a few blocks ahead of her, and she was grinning from ear to ear. This was a big performance. The biggest one of her career, and it was going to be a magical night.

Or so she had thought.

She laused at a crossing, smiling at another young woman that passed her and then she started walking again. She noticed two tall figures approaching her and frowned, gritting her teeth and straightening her sline. She was being paranoid they wouldn't mess with her this close to the theater, she could hear a gathered crowd buzzing up the hill and felt confident in her safety.

The pair split on either side of her, seemingly just giving her room to walk without having to either be pressed against the store fronts or be on the fringe of the street. But Tenley-Baltiste knew it was all over when their arms caught her and they began to run. She dropped her bag and kicked and screamed, jerking her arms from theirs. She started to run, screaming for help, but they caught her around her middle, the other coming for her legs and they pulled her from the street. She watched any possible chance of hope escape as the walls of the alley fell over the theater.

Her back hit bricks and pulled a strangled gasp from her lips, tears coating her face in salt. Her head and eyes lolled against the bricks, a line of drool starting down her chin as one of the men pulled out a small blade from his back left pocket. She couldn't even scream as she heard rather than felt the blade slicing easily through the fabric of her tights. Her head jerked back and forth, a small sob managing to escape from her lips every now and again as her skull cracked against the bricks. Her eyes fell to the mouth of the alley, seeing a couple walking by. They noticed the commotion and saw what was happening, horror falling over the woman's face. She looked up to her partner but he just shook his head and nudged her forward. Tenley-Baptiste cried out then, gaining her voice if only for a moment and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling so alone.

The man, finally finished with her, pulled away, sticky and bloody, jerking his chin at his partner. Even in the dark she could see his yellow teeth, feel those greedy eyes on her. But he didn't come for her like the other had. He reared a hand back, balled it into a fist and struck her in the right side of her head. She let out a gasp and her body spun towards the ground, her skull cracking against the wet concrete as her body bounced like a rag doll. Her eyes rolled up, praying it was over, and she was right in a sense.

She saw the shine of a new pistol in the light trickling from the moon against the opposite side of the alley. The one that had pulled away from her waved a hand, wrapping his coat around himself. The one above hrr grinned and lowered the gun, closing one eyes for accuracy though he held it merely a foot from her. Her breath and a scream were ripped from her body as the bullet snapped through her. All she felt was a sting, but in the back of her mind, that cluld still see and feel, felt every horrible thing as the bullet snapped through her. Tearing through the brain matter and skull, sending fragments against the ground beneath her.

Her head lolled for a minute as the tremor settled and the man cackled as he jogged to catch up to his partner, sharing a pipe with him. As if they had just seen her dance, as if everything was alright in the wotld, as if they had just been in the theater, as if they had just heard beautiful chords and watched a beautiful performance.

As if they were _human._

**_Can you stay strong_**

**_Can you go kn_**

**_A rose that won't bloom_**

**_Winter's kept you_**

**_Don't waste your whole life trying_**

**_To get back what was taken away_**

When he found her, she didn't look like anyone in Port Royal.

Sure, she had those clothes all the women working around there wore. Low cut, revealing more cleavage than he actually wanted to see from a lass that loomed like her. The skirting was shorter than usual and her eyes held something, and it had to be something because Jack Sparrow never noticed anything in a woman's eyes besides sobriety, that was different. He wasted no time in maneuvering through the drunken crowd, catching those eyes as he wasn't touching a single one of the sailors as they hooted at the women dancing across the bar.

A small, slightly confused, smile graced her face as he bowed, hat pressed against his chest, and he smiled at her. "Ylu seem out of place, lass."

She lursed her lips a little, looking him over. "As do you," she held out a hand to him, in a formal pose. "The name is Tenley-Baptiste, and you are?"

He smirked a little, catching her hand and lressing cracked lils against the soft skin. "Jack Sparrow at your service, m'lady."

* * *

_Sorry for any spelling mistakes. I typed this on my phone and when I do that it won't use spell check._


	2. Chapter 2

_**10:43 p.m. – 2/18/14**_

_I didn't mean for it to take this long to get these chapters posted. I got grounded from the computer for awhile._

* * *

**Gibbs**

"You let a woman on board, a woman with no memories but a name at that. What be wrong with you Jack?"

Gibbs cornered (sort of) Jack at the bow of the ship, looking confused, almost lost. Jack eyed him for a moment and then looked over his shoulder, seeing the newest crew member sitting on the steps, playing with the compass she had swiped from Jack a few hours ago. He looked back to Gibbs and pursed his lips, swiveling out of his way and began walking to the point again, hearing Gibbs' footsteps behind him.

"Nothing is wrong with me Mr. Gibbs," he stared at the ocean ahead of them, his nose tingling at the smell of salt. "I invited her along simply for th' cause of it. Somethin' wrong with that?"

"When it's you Jack, something is wrong. You don't let just any woman on board, especially if they be useless to us."

Jack stared ahead still, fingers strumming on his belt loop before he whipped around, dreads flying this way and that, startling Gibbs. Jack stared at him for a long time, making the man hesitant and jumpy. Jack had brought this woman on board and told Gibbs she didn't know who she was. She just had a name, Tenley-Baptiste, just Tenley by introduction. She had been posing as a prostitute in a bar at port, sliding her way out of any propositions with the help of a kind bartender that knew her situation. Jack hadn't said she was anything special, hadn't given her that look he gave most attractive women, hadn't said she was a key to any new plan. He had just said she was a woman he met at port and that she was a part of their crew now.

Gibbs wouldn't have questioned it if she had any special talents, if Jack needed her for something. But the moment she got on board she had plucked away that compass and had been playing with it since then, sitting on the bottom step of the right flight of stairs. She was doe eyed and as pretty as they came, maybe more so, but Gibbs didn't think that was it. Jack wouldn't have brought her on board if that were the case, he would have left her behind, left her looking for him.

"She ain't useless," was all he said as he passed Gibbs.

* * *

_**Tenley-Baptiste**_

"Ello girly."

Tenley looked up from the compass in her lap to Jack, who had a rather bored look on his face. "Jack Sparrow."

He grimaced then. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow lass, and don't you forget it."

Tenley smiled and stood, clasping her hands behind her back and stared up at him. "Well, Captain Jack Sparrow, what did you want from me?"

He raised an eyebrow at that and then jerked his chin in a motion, signaling for her to follow him. She nodded and trailed behind him into his quarters, looking around as he closed the doors behind them. She noticed the pungent stench of rum and sweat, but it didn't bother her. Back in the Crooked Kettle, she had been used to the stench, being crammed between body after body, night after night, the smell soaked into the grain of the wood the bar was made of. In a sense, it made her think of that place and it in turn seemed to be 'home', seeing as she knew no other home to think of.

She watched Jack walk past her, eyes trailing across him and settling on his braids, the beads inside of them. She wanted to play with them. But she couldn't, because he was staring at her with a strange look in his eye, like he didn't know what he was doing. Like she had just appeared from thin air, as though she just told him a ridiculous story. He looked bothered and confused, seeking an answer.

"Why did I bring you on board,' he mused, leaning against the table in the center of the room.

Tenley approached the table slowly, eyes fluttering around everywhere, unsure on whether he was talking to her or not. There were trinkets and empty bottles of rum strewn across the table a detailed map. She looked up at Jack and cocked her head to the right, seeing his eyes on her. So, he was asking her?

"Well um…I'm not really sure. You said you were at my service though," she grinned.

He looked up at her, giving a signature smile she knew by observation around the pub. It was a suggestive smile, but she knew he wouldn't do anything, wouldn't try anything. Yet, at least. She was grinning at him, she was pretty sure that was the only smile he could give anyway. It was permanently set into his face.

"Well then," he murmured, moving around the edge of the table to lean against her side, flirtatiously close. "What do you direct me to do?"

Her grin lessened to a small smile. "Find my memories."

His smile dropped and he pulled away, obviously realizing she was more than vulnerable. He pursed his lips lightly and stepped back, pulling a scarred compass from his belt. It was sun bleached and had salt scars around its edges. He handed it to her and she simply stared at him with slight bewilderment. She turned the compass over in her hands a few times then looked back up to him.

"Why do you hand me a compass?"

"It points to what you desire most, love," he sort of sashayed away from her towards the windows, staring out at the evening sky. "Just think and open."

She stared at his back for a moment and then did as he instructed. The arrow whirled around wildly, spinning and spinning for a long time. Tenley sighed and slumped into the chair behind her, thanking the heavens that there was actually something there to catch her. She hadn't checked. She jumped when the arrow abruptly stopped, pointing directly at her. Tenley groaned in frustration and tossed the compass onto the table, watching it snap shut and then she looked up at Jack. He was staring at her in curiosity, wondering what she was thinking. She waved at the compass and then glared at it, resting her chin on her hand.

"Stupid thing pointed at me," she muttered.

He chuckled at her childish act and plucked up the compass, clipping it to his waist again. He walked around her, fingers dancing across the table top and then the back of her chair. "It points to what you desire most," he reminded her.

She heard what he didn't say. "And that's me," she huffed and stood. "Jack, you have to help me do that. There has to be something out there that can give me my memories back, or maybe give me a wish. You promised me your services."

And he was regretting it, but damsels in distress were his specialty. "Well, I just might know someone that could help you."

She pushed out of her seat and leaned into him, hands flat against his chest. "Please, Jack who is it?"

His eyes sparkled (correct word to use) and he leaned in, lips ghosting against her right ear. "He flies on wings of wax."

* * *

_Blah blah blah, read, blah blah blah, review please._


	3. Chapter 3

_**11:55 a.m. – 3/7/14 - REVISED: 4/11/14**_

_I am so sorry it took me this long to get this chapter posted (I will wait and post the next chapter in a few days) but I have just been so wrapped up in my Walking Dead story The Divide that I haven't had the time to work on anything else but it. I'm wrapping that story up now with the final two chapters being posted within the next week or two, so this story has just had to be put on hold, but I enjoy and praise you guys have given me and hope I don't disappoint you guys with the story._

_Jack is slightly out of character and I have my reasons, but I will be getting to the Jack we all know and love soon._

_R&R please! Flames are welcome, I really don't care either way._

* * *

_His name was Icarus._

_When he was a young man, his father built two sets of wings made of feathers and wax. One for himself, the other for Icarus himself._

_At a quarter to noon, one the edge of the island they were residing on, Icarus' father – Daedalus – warned his son to not fly too close to the sun. He was to follow the path his father laid for him through the sky. But with the giddy adrenaline of flight, he defied his father's orders and flew high in the sky. He twisted through the air, laughing and unknowingly lost, flying too close to the sun. Too late did he realize he was left flapping his arms, the feathers fluttering below him, wax dripping towards the sea, and he began to fall._

* * *

"He landed in what is now known, because of him, the Icarian sea near Icaria, and island southwest of Samos."

Tenley listened to Gibbs with a strange, child-like intensity that Gibbs found slightly unnerving. "Icaria…it seems familiar," she muttered, pushing herself up from the chair Jack labeled as his. "But I've never been there…maybe."

Jack stared at her for a long moment and then pointed to Gibbs. "Set a course for Icaria, I know he's waiting for us."

Gibbs nodded and left the room, the door shutting softly, leaving Tenley and Jack alone for the moment. Tenley sighed and turned to Jack, looking every bit as lost and heartbroken as when he had met her. Jack gave his own sigh and walked over to her, cradling her right elbow in his hand and steering her towards the cot in the corner.

"I don't understand," she shook her head, sitting on the cot and watching as Jack carried on around the quarters, lighting candles silently. "Why did this happen to me?"

"Happens more than ya think love," he smiled at her a little but then his brow furrowed and he was back to a blank face. "This th first ya heard about Icarus?"

Tenley nodded, folding her hands gingerly in her lap and taking in a deep breath. "Maybe…so many maybes. It's familiar, but I could have simply heard it from someone in the bar, of course I could have also been there before I lost my memories. I won't know until I get his help, if he is willing to help me."

Jack nodded. "Both good possibilities," he turned to her. "But love, have you thought of an alternative?"

She looked up at him with those large eyes. "An alternative?"

He nodded again, swaying over towards her, hands held gingerly up around his head. Tenley almost giggled at the look it gave to his persona. "You stay with me and my crew," he gave a slight huff as he fell down onto the bed beside her. "Make yourself some new memories."

She smiled a little and then looked over at him, shaking her head. "I can't do that Jack…I have to figure out who I am before I move on."

Right.

Jack looked down at the molding paneling of the ship. Of course she needed to get her memories back. What had he been thinking, suggesting such an uncharacteristic alternate reality? Jack shook his head and said his goodnights to the young woman, shutting the doors tightly behind him as he walked out across the deck of the ship. He ran his fingers across the railing, lifting his fingers up when a powder came up on the pads of his fingers. He rubbed the soft gold powder between his fingers and then set his jaw, looking around for a moment before he sighed and dropped his hand, looking up to the star lit sky.

* * *

"_Making believe, is just another way of dreaming so then until my dreams come true…"_

"She can sing."

"We could have her perform whenever we hit port."

"Seriously?"

Gibbs stared at Jack, who had been distracted all morning. He was chewing on his thumb nail, eyes far off but set on Tenley as she danced with one of the crew members, actually teaching him how to dance in a proper way instead of how she was dancing, which was rather elegant. Gibbs didn't understand what was going on with Jack. He blamed the girl; after all, he had been acting this way since she had come into contact with his captain. Gibbs didn't like that, when Jack wasn't in his normal state of mind, the crew suffered. Of course, every time Gibbs said something, Jack shot him down so Gibb had just resigned to entertain Jacks' abnormal concentration with this young woman.

She turned her eyes on Gibbs and held out a hand. "Come on Gibbs! Dance with us, its fun!"

At that, he had to smile. "Thank you, but no. I do not dance."

She pouted. "Oh, party pooper," she stuck her tongue out at him and then turned back to the gaggle of sailors. "Who wants to dance with me next?"

They all threw their hands up into the air and Tenley giggled, grabbing a hold of Cotton's hand and dragging him towards the open deck. She wasn't fazed by anything. Carefree, happy, willing to touch pirates when she had such alabaster skin. She was something special. Or something crazy. Maybe that was it, she was psychotic. She probably was just putting on a show, she was probably looking to put them all in the gallows.

"Jack I don't trust her," Gibbs insisted in a whispering voice once more.

The look Jack gave him, had Gibbs sick to his stomach. It was evil, daring him to say something else. What was his problem? Was she a witch? Maybe that was it, maybe she was a witch and she had a spell on Jack.

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack started in a warning tone, turning to him fully. "I want you to stop this right now. The lass is nothin' more than a girl missin 'er memories and I am trying to help her of my own will."

"But why Jack? Never seen ya treat a woman like this, never had ya do anythin' for a woman and want nothin' in return. She has ta have a spell on ya."

"You think I have a spell on him?"

Jack and Gibbs looked to the side, seeing Tenley standing there and looking honestly distraught. Gibbs felt a pang of guilt in his chest but didn't look her in the eye. He looked down and out to the ocean, trying to find something more to catch her attention than the small woman beside him. But he couldn't. Because she took a firm hold of his chin and made him look down at her. Her jaw was set tense, but her eyes gave her away, shining faintly with a sheen of tears.

"_You think I have a spell on him_," she repeated in a clipped tone.

Gibbs hesitated and then swallowed thickly. "Yes," he pulled his chin from her hand. "Ye have ta be a witch or something."

Her whole tiny body was shaking and she looked up at Jack, looking for some kind of anchor, and when she didn't catch it straight away she bit her lip and turned away, running across the deck to the captains quarters and when the doors slammed shut, the only sound they could hear was the ocean. Everyone looked to Gibbs, disapproving looks in their eyes and Gibb felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He looked over to Jack, hesitant, and saw a strange anger in Jack's eyes. Gibbs had never experienced an angry Jack, pointed towards him anyway. He had seen Jack angry at plenty of people, but never at him. And it made him feel horrible.

"Jack I didn't mean any harm, I was jus' concerned as to how this woman made ya act this way," Gibbs tried to explain.

Jack shook his head, waving a hand at Gibbs as he walked towards the captain's quarters. "Enough, Mr. Gibbs, just…enough."

Gibbs stood there on the deck, staring after his captain, then he looked to the crew staring at him. He had never thought he would see the day where he felt ashamed in the eyes of a ship of pirates. But today was that sad, sad day, and he was truly ashamed. They said nothing to him, just shook their heads and dispersed across the ship, making Gibbs feel like an outcast amongst his own crew.

* * *

Jack opened the door, peering inside and seeing Tenley sitting on the small cot she had slept on, head held in her hands as her thin shoulders shook with the effort of crying. When she heard the door thump shut, her head shot up, tears shining across her cheeks and she shook her head, reaching up to wipe away what she could.

"Go on Jack, you don't need to see me like this," she muttered, sniffing a little.

Jack chuckled a little, then bit his tongue and sat beside her. "Seen worse than a crying woman, lass. Sorry about Gibbs, sweet heart. He can't help but be suspicious."

"But calling me a witch," she looked over at Jack. "How could he even imply such a thing?"

Jack didn't quite know how to explain it to her, so he didn't and just shrugged. "Gibbs has always been the suspicious type, jus' ignore him."

Tenley stared at Jack for a long time and then smiled gently, twisting around to wrap her arms around him the best she could. Jack tensed at the contact, eyes widening a fraction as he felt the warmth from her ebb over him. She was so touchy, so warm, so kind. How could Gibbs say such things about her? Jack didn't move, though he knew he should, he simply ignored the instinct and let her smother him with herself. It was comforting in a way. It was a comforting feeling, the warmth she gave off, and Jack found that he didn't mind her touching him now as much as before.

"Thank you Jack," Tenley whispered into his shirt.

It took him a moment, but after that moment had passed he managed to speak. "For what, lass?"

"For sticking up for me and just taking me with you, helping me. Since I woke up without my memories, you have been just so kind to me, no one has been so kind to me. That I can remember."

Jack stared across the room, watching a hung candle sway gently. "It is what a chivalrous man is supposed to do."

Tenley laughed and sat up, one hand still placed flatly against his chest, and she cocked her head gently. "Chivalrous?"

He smiled at that. It was lopsided and sort of lazy, but also sort of tense. "Of course," he reached up, pulling his hat from his head and he flipped it over, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. "I am but a servant of the women."

Tenley laughed again. It was lighter hearted than before and made Jack smile a genuine smile. "I didn't know pirates could be chivalrous."

"Oh they can, Ms. Baptiste," Jack stuffed his hat back onto his head. "I can at least, I cannot vouch for other pirates."

Tenley nodded. "I'll say, I hated when a whole pirate crew would come into the bar. They would be there for a minute, but they would tear the place up in those few minutes."

"Didn't know Mags let pirates into the bar."

"She let you in, didn't she?"

Jack smirked at that. "Well, Mags and I have a background, a history."

"A drinking binge," Tenley finished what he didn't say.

Jack grinned, so unlike that normal smirk always playing at his lips. It looked good on him. "Mags has a fine batch of rum."

Tenley stared at him for a long time, her smile lazy and small, but full of more emotion than words could bring. "Thank you Jack," she whispered.

His face dropped then, not out of concern or anything like that, but out of some other emotion he didn't know he had. His lips parted gently, brow furrowing, and then he swallowed, reaching out for her hand. He held it for a moment, wandering what he was doing, holding her hand so gently, holding her so gently. After a moment, the questioning as to what he was doing, ebbed away and it was replaced with the feeling that this is just what he needed to do. It was just something he did; it came naturally.

* * *

_See, Jack is a complex character. I know he can be sweet, I know he can be crazy, I know he can be a little flamboyant. He can be so many things, that's why I love his character – hell, that's why I love Loki and Spock and Daryl from the Walking Dead tv show because they are such complex characters – because I can do so many things with him and it doesn't really seem out of character for him._


End file.
